


Discovery

by AceOfSpades22



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Baby Shimadas, Dragons, Hurt/Comfort, Sojiro is a good dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:28:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22326334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceOfSpades22/pseuds/AceOfSpades22
Summary: Genji Shimada is the youngest Shimada, and destined for greatness. At least, that's what everyone tells him, and maybe it's true. Especially after discovering he as a magic that all Shimadas before him have shared.Or, baby Genji gets traumatized into using dragons.
Kudos: 6





	Discovery

Discovery

“What do I even have to know this stupid stuffs for anyway? Papa is big and strong enough to keep us safe... isn’t he?” Genji asked with a soft sniffle, a tiny fist rubbing at his teary eyes while he held his free hand out toward his brother. A thick cut ran from the back of his wrist across the top of his forearm, stopping just below the elbow, thankfully shallow, though it still hurt all the same.

“We do what Otou-san says. That’s why,” Hanzo mumbled as he furrowed his eyebrows together. In his concentration, a pink tongue snuck out from between his lips as he stitched the gash as best he could.

“You’re six years old now, Genji. You should be getting better with your sword… Ogawa Sensei wouldn’t have gotten you if you blocked faster.”  
Genji just sniffled and stubbornly looked away. He _hated_ Ogawa Sense. He was mean, and he hit too hard and too fast! He’d never, ever even picked up a real-life Waka... Waba… Wakaz… whatever the knife thing was! How was he supposed to know how to use it?

“That knife thing is heavy! It made my arms feel like noodles! I like the wood ones better…” He mumbled, wincing when the needle between his brother’s fingers poked too far down into his skin.

“ _Hanzo!_ ” He whined, drawing his arm back against his chest with a new round of sniffles and tears.

“Sorry, sorry…” Hanzo huffed as he sat back on his heels, “… You shouldn’t move so much.”

“Well that _hurt_!” Genji protested, face scrunching up in indignation, though reluctantly he offered his arm to his brother once more when silently coaxed.  
“Anyway, I think your _brains_ are noodles. The wooden swords won’t help if any bad guys come will they? Baka…” Hanzo muttered, ignoring Genji’s pouted protests.  
“Bad guys? Come here? You’re the one with noodles for brains… No one in all the whole world is dumb enough to try to fight _our_ Papa. ‘Specially not here! Not at home,” Genji protested. Their Papa was the strongest, best-est sword fighter ever. No one would ever beat him.

“I want to be big and strong and good at fighting, just like him.”

Hanzo looked at his tiny baby brother doubtfully. Genji didn’t exactly act big or strong. He inspected the stitches he’d made for a long moment before knotting off the thread and sitting back on his heels.

“There. You’re done. You better not tell Okaa-san that Ogawa Sensei cut you… again…” Hanzo threatened. The last time Genji had gone crying to her, she’d tried to stop them right then and there, but they weren’t too young! They could learn! That’s what Papa had said at least.

“She won’t ever let us go to sword practice again,” He said as he got to his feet.

Genji’s eyes widened and he shook his head urgently. If Mama didn’t let them practice he’d never be as good as his Papa.  
“I won’t tell. I promise. Anyway, you already stitched it up good so we can just wrap it up and I can wear long sleeves!”

“Good,” Hanzo said as he extended a hand for his brother and hauled him up to his feet.

“Come on… Okaa-san might have snacks for us,” He hummed, heading for the door only to turn around in confusion when he realized Genji wasn’t following him.

“Genji?”  
“I want to practice some more,” Genji said, hesitantly grabbing for his discarded weapon, “so help me with this Wazi-thing.”

Hanzo paused for a moment, still half facing the door. His stomach growled hungrily. If they left now, Mama would let them have a snack, but if it got much later she’d make them wait until dinner, but Genji looked so determined to keep going. He sighed.

“We better not get in trouble… If Ogawa Sensei finds us we’re doomed…” Hanzo sighed with a shake of his head. “And, it’s not a “wazi-thing” it’s a wakizashi,” He corrected. Resigning himself to a missed snack time, he grabbed his own wakizashi from the training rack and joined his brother’s side.

“Ok. Wazikashi. Got it,” Genji attempted.

Hanzo huffed but didn’t bother trying to correct him a second time and instead stood beside his brother and demonstrated one of their starting poses. “Like this. No like _this,_ ” He said, legs apart as he glared at his brother. With a sound of frustration, he shoved Genji’s shoulder and watched as he toppled over backwards onto the mat with a squeak of surprise.

“What was that for!” Genji protested, dazed on the ground for a moment.

“You have to keep your legs apart! Otherwise you can just be pushed over,” Hanzo instructed as he reluctantly helped Genji to his feet again.

Though he was frustrated, Genji accepted his brother’s hand and got back up, clutching his wakizashi tightly in both hands. This time, when he tried to copy Hanzo’s stance he made sure to keep his legs spread apart, and when Hanzo tried to push him over, he barely wiggled.

“Good. Yes, like that,” Hanzo praised. “Now, Ogawa Sensei says that your blade is your weapon and you use it as a tool… but what _Otou-san_ says is that it isn’t a tool at all.”

“Wait but,” Genji interrupted, confused, “if it isn’t a tool, then what is it?”

“I was getting to that part, noodle brain!” Hanzo snapped as he glared pointedly. This was a mistake. Genji wasn’t going to learn anything, _and_ he missed snack time!  
Genji bit his lip and looked down at his feet.

“Sorry, Hanzo.”

“Don’t interrupt. It’s not nice,” Hanzo frowned though he took up a pose once more and slowly moved his wakizashi through the air.

“Otou-san says the wakizashi, and any sword you use, is just an extension of your arm,” Hanzo said, his tiny pink tongue snaking past his lips again in his concentration as he moved with the blade across the room.

Genji watched, fascinated. Even Hanzo looked so cool moving with his sword! He’d never be as good… Maybe they should have just gone to have snack time after all.

Frustration bubbled up in his chest and tears welled in his eyes as he tried so hard to copy his brother’s every move, but his feet kept knocking together and he nearly fell flat on his face a few times, and the wakizashi really _was_ heavy! Hanzo could hold it in just one hand, but he had to hold his in both and that wasn’t right.

“I can’t do it!” He cried, tears in his eyes as he watched Hanzo move with grace around the room.

“What is this?” Came a voice from the sliding door on the far side of the room.

Genji whimpered at the sharp voice and clutched tighter at his blade.

“O-Ogawa Sensei…” He said with a shallow bow, heart hammering.

The stern looking master held up a hand and stared steadily at Hanzo until the eldest Shimada child quickly placed his wakizashi back on the rack and shirked away into the corner.

“A quitter. That is not what Master Sojiro is having me train you to be!” Ogawa Sensei snapped.

Genji watched in fear as the man advanced on him, scuttling backward as fast as his legs could carry him until his back was flat against the wall. His wakizashi wobbled in his hands as he held it up toward his sensei, tears in his eyes.

“I don’t want to practice anymore! I want to go inside with Mama!” He wailed, hands shaking. With a squeak, he held up his blade as Ogawa Sensei slashed towards him with his own.

“You will stop only when I allow it!”

“H-Hanzo! Help!” Genji begged, glancing toward his brother desperately. Maybe if they both stood up against their sensei he’d let them stop training for the day! His arm hurt and the stitches pulled at his skin, but his brother only watched from the side of the room, his golden eyes wide with alarm but otherwise remaining stationary.

“Your brother is not going to help you. You wanted to practice without supervision and now you will practice until I decide we are finished.”

“I don’t want to! My arm hurts!” Genji protested, flinching again as he deflected another slow, clean slash. Ogawa Sensei still wasn’t stopping! He didn’t want to get cut again!

“Stop…”

“Fight, boy!”

“N-No!”

“Keep your blade up!”

“I DON’T WANT TO!” Genji cried. As his desperate protest rung through the room a blinding flash of green shot out from his chest and danced up both of his arms, dazzling his teary eyes.  
A rumbling roar vibrated his ribs and left his tummy tickling as, amidst that blinding green light, a snarling dragon formed. It swirled once around the blade of the wakizashi, again around Genji’s head, growing larger with each pass until, with another roar it advanced on Ogawa Sensei, jaws open and eyes burning emerald flames.

Genji watched in awe, his golden eyes as wide as dinner plates as his sensei shrieked, looking terrified as the dragon bore down on top of him. The man raced for the door, desperate to escape the green giant, but Genji’s head spun dizzily and his tummy very suddenly ached like it did just before he needed to throw up.

As much as he wanted to watch the dragon torment Ogawa Sensei, the floor moved from beneath him and he toppled to the mat on the ground, eyes bleary, and ears ringing.

“Genji!” Hanzo gasped as he raced to his brother’s side, fear battling wonder in his gaze as he kept glancing up to see the green dragon. Where had it come from? How had it even gotten into the room? How was it _real_? Dragons didn’t exist!

“Ryū ga watashitachi o mamoru! Dragons protect us!” From the door, another explosion of color, brighter even than the green had been, ripped through the air. A deep crimson dragon, this one with three, vicious looking heads, glided around the room beside the green one. Compared to it, the green dragon looked tiny in comparison.

Blinded by the light, Hanzo clutched blindly at his baby brother, a soundless scream of terror on his lips. What was happening!?  
“Hanzo! Genji!”

“Otou-san! _Papa!_ ” Hanzo cried, instantly recognizing his Papa’s voice. Though he couldn’t see him, he felt his Papa’s arms encircle him and Genji both in a tight hug and, even though he was big and strong and ten whole years old, he still pressed against the man’s chest, soothed by his presence.

As quickly as they came, the dragons disappeared, and slowly Hanzo blinked up at his Papa once he was sure he had stopped shaking, Genji still clutched tightly in his arms.

“Are you hurt? Hmm?” Sojiro demanded, releasing Hanzo and Genji in favor of gripping his eldest son’s face between his hands.

“N-No… But Genji fell asleep,” Hanzo said, but even as he spoke Genji stirred with a soft whine in his arms. Relief crashed through him and he hugged his little brother tightly.

Sojiro blinked, before scooping his smaller son into his arms. He had always assumed Hanzo would be the first to discover their family talent. It seemed Genji would always surprise him.

“Is Genji going to be ok?” Hanzo asked quietly, alarmed by their Papa’s intensity. Maybe Genji really was sick or something! Maybe the dragon had hurt him or somehow given him some sort of disease!  
“Calm down, Hanzo,” Sojiro said softly, resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Now was not the time to tell him about his gift. He had hoped neither would learn of their dragon spirits until many years into the future, but for now…

“Genji is fine. I am sure he is just very tired. That happens when dragons come to help. Don’t be afraid though, he only needs to rest,” He assured, shifting his youngest son into one arm so he could take Hanzo’s hand and walk with him from the dojo.  
“Papa… Why did the dragon come? Where did it even come from?” Hanzo dared to ask.

Sojiro looked down at his son for a moment, thinking about how much to tell him.

“It came because it thought you and Genji needed it,” He said at last, pausing outside for a long moment. Slowly, he knelt beside Hanzo and rested a hand on his shoulder.

“You never have to be afraid, Hanzo. Someday, even if I am not here to keep you safe, the dragons will watch over you. They are never far away.”

“But… you’ll always be here! Right?” Hanzo asked anxiously. He liked the idea of having cool red and green dragons to keep him safe, but even with the dragons on his side his Papa was his biggest hero.

Sojiro paused, eyes widening slightly at his son’s distress before he pulled him into a tight hug.

“Of course, my son. I’ll always be here to protect you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was a short originally posted in my digital zine Tales of Two Dragons. I never posted it, and didn't realize it until now.


End file.
